December 2009

December 28, 2009

There are a few things I will be focusing on in 2010. I am happy in my home life and my work life, and I am getting back into a pattern of exercise that is starting to feel good again. So my hope is that I can attend to other things without screwing any of that up.

I've been thinking about Fun, as I wrote a little while ago. I'd like to have More Fun in 2010. I realized that I haven't quite learned what is fun for me at this stage of my life -- there are things I used to love doing, and some of them I might want to do more of, but some of them don't sound like fun right now (e.g. gathering a ton of friends to meet out at a bar, or come over to play games). Those don't sound awful, but they aren't necessarily the best way for me to have fun at this stage of life. On Christmas Eve some friends and I walked to the pond in the park in the center of town and went ice skating, and then came home for an afternoon of cooking and hot cider. That was fun. I think I can have more fun by taking more excursions, planning more adventures, participating in more pranks. I think it's kind of fun to play cards with people. When I sat down and thought about fun I thought about a few categories of fun: there's solo fun, couple fun, and fun with friends. I think that in the late 30s "fun with friends" changes, so noticing how and when the different opportunities for fun show up will be something I pay more attention to this year. "Couple fun" is tricky, too -- there's lots of contentment in cooking together and curling up with our books or a video, but that's not quite what I mean by "fun." Ice skating, swing dancing, and walking a few blocks to see the Red Claws play: those seem like good bits of fun we can add, and I think paying more attention will yield more ideas. And then there's solo fun. It was really easy for me to identify what is fun for me by myself. I like to take the dogs on rambly walks. But the thing that immediately jumps out as the most fun thing I can spend my time doing is going to be the biggest focus of 2010: The Brain.

The Year of the Brain (Comic Book). What is really, really fun for me is to learn about the brain. And the funnest way for me to learn something is to draw cartoons about the concepts and how they relate to one another. When I thought about how I might have more fun the obvious answer was to spend the year learning as much as I can about the brain -- specifically, cognition and decision-making, and the systematic flaws or limitations that seem to be part of the way we process information and make meaning out of it. What I care a lot about is how people make sense of the world and how they can make better decisions -- that's why I like the job I'm in right now, and that's what I am curious about when I read the books I read. I am not sure if what I need is psychology or neuroscience or philosophy -- I've been checking books out of all three areas of the library. When I'm further along on this project I think I'll have some better ideas about which field I'm most specifically interested in, but for now there's a lot of reading and drawing I need to do just to start asking the right questions. I don't know or care right now whether anyone will ever want to read my comic book about how to use your brain better, but I know that learning enough to figure out what goes in it, and drawing the pictures to tell whatever story I've arrived at, will be the most fun I can have by myself. I'm cheating by starting early, gobbling up lectures on DVD by a Vanderbilt neuroscientist. Actually, I started on this years ago, in 1994 when I first read The Moral Animal. But 2010 is the year I'm going to do it in a more specific, focused way. (Want to see some pictures of what I'm talking about? Here you go.)

It's also going to be the Year of Using My Power For Good. I hope it won't be the only year of that. I spend a lot of time doing volunteer work of one sort or another, and I've been thinking about that, just as I've been thinking about Fun. I want that time to be more meaningful than it has been so far. I have a law degree, and a license to practice, so I've been going to the district court about once a month to help people get protection from abuse orders. I'm not sure it's the best way for me to help, although I do think that, mostly, I've helped make something hard a little tiny bit easier for some people. That feels good, but it's not as good as it could be if I were doing something slightly different with my time. I have some ideas that might be a better use of my time and my brain and my law license, but I'm not quite sure how to make those things work yet. I'm also on the board of a nonprofit that I started, with my dad, a long time ago. I've been doing a lot to help that organization, but I'm still not sure I'm doing enough, or doing the right sorts of things. Finally, at work, I think mostly what I do is useful, and if I can do it well I am helping some people who need it. But I think there are ways I'm not using all of my power -- that sounds groovy, but I don't want to get more specific just yet. I'm trying to think about how to be a better advocate for my students in particular, and for people looking for jobs more generally. There are some charlatans out there, ready to prey on the confusion and insecurity of people who aren't sure whether or how they will get hired. I don't like those folks very much, and I'm trying to figure out what my role in that landscape should be. So this idea has a couple of components. One is "Use My Power" -- by which I mean, the things that I do especially well, that are different than what other people offer, that make me feel fulfilled when I exercise them. And the other is "For Good," by which I mean, well, to help the world in some way that feels meaningful. I'm not sure what the scope of that kind of contribution should be. Something that makes me different from you is that I seem to be blindedly devoted to individuals. I can't think about groups or populations, at least not while retaining any passion or sense of purpose. I'm not very capable of abstraction, even though I'm reasonably smart, and can fake being logical and rational pretty well if necessary. I care about individuals, not groups. I haven't figured out how to be efficient and effective and to make as broad a contribution as possible when that seems to be my mindset.

I need to sit down and review 2009, so we can all set our expectations about these goals appropriately low. I didn't cure Crohn's disease, or read all of Shakespeare, or even do a very good job planning my reading. But I have more to say about all of that, so I'll write that down in the next couple of days.

December 24, 2009

If you celebrate them in snow, though, you should know that you don't have to live like that and we'll be waiting for you on a sunny beach with trees full of tangerines, lemons and limes. Hope your next few days are good.

December 22, 2009

I am supposed to be studying for the Professional Engineer exam in April. But now I have two awesome roommates, so there's a dinner and friends over most nights. And Ali and I are talking about adding in yoga. And knitting or painting projects. I'm still lifting weights. We're working on a big and difficult jigsaw puzzle. My pleasure reading has already slowed. Gardening will kick back in a few weeks. So basically, all my minutes are busy in very enjoyable ways.

December 20, 2009

I think Megan already hit on the relevant and insightful advice, which means I'm free to write tangential and speculative things instead. The thing I agree with the most is that ambiguity signals unresolved conflict -- their vagueness or silence probably means they're conflicted about why they don't feel so great about you anymore. Maybe not -- a lot of folks avoid negative or difficult conversations, so silence could signal clarity but unwillingness to have a hard talk. I don't think so, though.

Your letter made me think about friendship and how mysterious it can be. It made me think about the people in my life who are or once were or rightfully should be "friends" but who actually make me uncomfortable. There are some myths about friendship, I think, that aren't matched by the reality that I live. The people who make me feel uneasy are the people where myth and reality stand in contrast. "Friends are forever," is the myth I think you're bumping into right now.

The biggest myth about friendship is that it goes in one direction. You start as strangers, you become acquaintances, you move into friendship, the friendship deepens, and that's friendship -- you stay close forever and ever. The myth suggests that once you are friends, at a particular level of intimacy, anything that diminishes that closeness is a failure -- you're not really "friends." Someone has done something wrong, there's something broken to fix. I don't think that's actually true, but it is those situations where I feel awkward or lousy. There are people in my life where the potential for friendship exists, and partial overtures have been made, we started down the path of friendship or we got all the way there, but present day life doesn't accommodate true closeness in the shape we both might have predicted at the beginning. Those are the people I'm afraid to call up, because I don't know what we are. I'd like to get coffee now and then, to hear how they're doing, and I wish them well, but I don't want to have them over for dinner or take trips with them or call them to borrow tools or go to their child's school play. You're not allowed to say this, because it contradicts the myth about what friendship is. You're not allowed to go from friends to graceful acquaintances. We do it all the time, but we don't talk about it or admit that it's okay. It's easier to sever ties completely, sometimes, or to say, we were never really "friends" than to say, we were friends once, but now there are other people I'd rather spend my time talking to. Or I've outgrown that stage of my life and the people who are still really into it make me feel conflicted and strange. Or, I've realized that you always want to talk about something that isn't interesting enough for me to want to talk about as often as you would like, but telling you would be awkward and I don't care about you enough to try to puzzle through an awkward conversation. Worse still: the more I got to know you I admired from afar, the more I realize we don't share the same values, and so I don't want to be around you as much as I thought I would from the outside.

December 16, 2009

I have all sorts of thoughts, some of which don't directly answer your question. But I'll try them anyway.

First, I love the actual question you asked, "How do I re-frame what's going on so it doesn't feel like low level on-going rejection?". That's the perfect question. The situation sounds like it is stuck, but you are the boss of how you think about it (mostly), so lets get you a better angle on this. I know full well that low-lying scripts can take away from your daily experience of life. They nag and mutter and say mean things to you. They pester you, barging into should-be glorious moments. They're also unfounded and ridiculous, which is really obvious when your perfect brilliant gorgeous friend confesses some piece of self-loathing that makes you shake your head amazed that someone could be so wrong about himself. Whatever pained framing you can't help but hear is equally pointless and wrong.

Next, who knows what happened, but I can tell you one thing. They're conflicted about why they shut you out. That's what the silence means. If they weren't conflicted, it would be easy to tell you. They would say "Because you robbed a bank and shot three people, that's why!". Instead, they're keeping quiet because they don't know or don't like their own reasons. They have rationalizations, but they know the real reason is that maybe you were careless or they were overoffended or it didn't feel the same and they can't face their own insecurities. They aren't proud of what they did, or they would tell you straight out why.

To your actual question, on how to re-frame: Here I have to give you the only truth I've come to after all these years of dating, with rejection going both ways. It is profoundly unsatisfying, but I have finally settled on the vague and underdetermined "fit". Sometimes people fit and sometimes people don't fit, and there is no reason for it. There is no reason in the good direction; why should Ali and I click so very much when we are such different people in such different life stages. There is no reason in the bad direction; why can't I fall for that sweet bright good man? Looking for reasons will only make you nuts.

My guess from reading your email is that you grew some, and the fit wasn't good any more. If they were old beloved pants, you would know because they'd get too short and tight. But they aren't pants, they're people, so instead of being too snug around the waist, they start to scritch and squirm and close out this person who shows them that they haven't changed. That's my first guess at the reason, but my underlying guess is that there is no good reason except that people have shortcomings and don't live up to who they want to be. That's hopelessly vague, but sometimes vague is all you get.

Finally, you sound like you're on exactly the right track, but I wanted to reinforce what you're doing. The only thing you really get to do in these nebulous friend situations is live your own life really well. Seriously. They lost something fantastic and precious when you left the situation; they lost your voice and ideas and spark. Now you make your own life good, so that your voice and ideas and spark are that much stronger. Treat yourself well and be bolder and deeper, so that you develop even more. It isn't to spite them. They may never know (although, word does get around), but that isn't the point. The point is that you are growing into new friends, and they will be as good as you are. You are trading up, and you earn better friends by being more of your best self. You are great; your life and friends will be great.

I read your blog regularly and love hearing your thoughts on relationships and ‘other people’. I dunno if you’re accepting any advice requests, but would love to know your views on dealing with sudden rejection from friends. I’m not speaking of ‘drifting apart,’ but rather of long-time friends who abruptly stop returning phone calls, etc. This happened to me with a group of formerly close friends, quite suddenly, about four years ago; it started with one married couple, and gradually spread to several other people in this group. (Context? I’d recently made some significant changes to my life, changing jobs, joining a band, dating a new, much older partner. The rest of the group remains tightly-knit.) I have newer friends and acquaintances now, but continue to feel hurt by this sudden ostracization with zero explanation. Occasional efforts to reopen lines of communication are ignored or, in the case of a recent text message, met with an email request to stop contacting that person. (Wtf?)

I guess I’d like to hear your ideas about how to reframe what’s going on so that it doesn’t feel like constant, low-level rejection from these folks that I used to consider close friends.

December 15, 2009

There are a lot of things, and I'm looking forward to sitting down this weekend and telling you about them as I think them through.

1) I'm thinking about books. I want to tell you how the Year of Planned Reading turned out and what I think of my Kindle and what I still don't really understand about reading. I guess I am realizing that I'm 37 years old and I read a whole lot and I still don't really know how or why.

2) I'm thinking about Being Good. I worry a lot that I'm not Good Enough and that I'm not Doing Good Things. I think I do the things I do well, or some of them anyway, and I think the things I do are worth doing, or mostly, but I still feel like there are too many Good Things that I should be doing that I'm not. I'll try to write about this more cogently.

3) I'm still thinking a lot about Fun, and what it looks like for me. I'm thinking a little bit about Friendship, and what that looks like, too.

4) I think, by accident, I'm thinking a little bit about God, but I don't know how to talk about that, so I might pretend I'm not thinking about it. If I believed in God it would give me a vocabulary for some things I've been thinking about lately. So sometimes I think that would be a good trade.

December 14, 2009

What do we talk about? We talk about how COLD it is, and how we are about to DIE of COLDNESS. Then we complain that it might be COLD for more days, and agree that this COLD is UNACCEPTABLE. We say we hate these cold, dark days and we can't believe we have to live through them again, because that's not how we roll and why, dear god, does the earth have to tilt on its axis and take us away from the beautiful sun that we worship and crave.

Sherry, it has been cold. Mostly it is in the forties, but last week it was in the THIRTIES, and no one can live through that. We stayed inside (which is horrible) and didn't even drink on the porch because that would lead straight to hypothermia and death of COLD.

We do not mostly talk of dressing for cold. Dressing for cold is just one more indignity of cold. It covers our fading tans and is hard to move in and you have to take jackets on and off. The only tiny possible sliver of benefit is that I get to wear scarves and hats that are important. I wear a plaid wool scarf from my grandpa. My sister knit me a hat. I have a fuzzy scarf and hat that I made. Just this weekend, Ali is knitting me wristwarmers (with yarn from my aunt!), which I desperately need for my ride into work. Because my wrists get cold, because the temperature is cold, which is just awful. We talk about missing summer. Tall, light-flooded, hot, beautiful summer. It can't come too soon. This winter bullshit needs to end.

December 11, 2009

This morning I got up while it was dark, checked my phone -- no cancellation message, drat -- and suited up. I put on SmartWool socks, medium thickness, a medium weight pair of capilene long underwear, warm cross-country skiing training pants, and a gore-tex windpant. On my upper body I wore a cotton undershirt, a capilene layer, a fleece hoody, and a windbreaker. Gloves, scarf, hat.

Met my walking pal for a walk. It was still dark when we started. The path was mostly clear, with some crunchy ice patches. It was 21 degrees, but the wind was fierce -- about 20 miles an hour -- and so it felt cold. I was warm enough, mostly, because I did a good job getting dressed.

We spent the first 10 minutes of our walk chatting happily about what we were wearing. Getting dressed for the cold, what you choose and whether it works or not, is almost always an interesting conversation here. I should have worn a balaclava, because my face was pinchy-cold, and my ears really started to sing with discomfort. My friend chose down, and we discussed that for a while. Down is rarely a good choice if you're active at all -- it is too warm for real activity, you end up hot. Indeed, my friend took off her gloves sooner than I did.

Anyway, I thought about you, over there in Sacramento, and I really wondered: what's the California equivalent of conversations about outerwear? In Maine you can almost always talk about it: waterproofness, warmth, weight, smelliness, cost. Getting dressed right is hard, and you can never have enough information about how to do it better. Do you guys talk about wicking and breathability? Do you talk about irrigation and water conservation? What does everyone talk about if not how to stay warm?

December 08, 2009

I was chatting yesterday with a handsome young man who said that he isn't interesting, and he wants to be. I was pretty dubious about that. I know him to be funny, and I know that he has interesting observations about being a runner. So I know that he leaves the house to pursue a hobby, and then reflects on it. Funny, does stuff, and reflects on it is most of being interesting. So I wasn't convinced by his claim. But he says that he runs out of things to say too early in conversation. He wants to make his life more interesting, so that he has more to say.

I thought that should be pretty do-able. He lives in a big city, so he has lots of ways to make his life more interesting. I suggested that he go to stuff around town. Book readings and open mics and gallery openings. It isn’t so much about whether he likes an individual outing. Going to a few open mics in a row will start to give him opinions, and opinions are interesting. If he goes there by public transit, he's likely to see strange things, and strange things that happen on public transit are interesting. He got the idea right away; sure, he said, a calendar for anecdote fodder.

On my bike ride home, I got to thinking about it even more. It struck me that he could get even more out of it if he reflects on the outings on his way home. I wanted to propose two (maybe a third) questions for him to answer after the event.

First: what was your favorite part? I think consciously deciding on a favorite part of the evening is helpful for a few reasons. First, I think it will make him like the evening better in retrospect. Maybe the café was dingy and the open mic was largely embarrassing and the whole thing reminds him of the emptiness of our disconnected urban lives. Fine. But searching through the evening for a favorite part will emphasize that piece in his memory, and he’ll look back on the evening just a little more fondly. Since going to a bunch of those things can be work, he might as well remember the best aspects of it. Second, people enjoy enthusiastic people. It is a good practice to notice the best parts of things and be able to recount them. Calling out the bad parts is not-interesting. It is easy and predictable and brings negativity to the party and sounds like a jaded teenager. To be interesting, note your favorite parts.

Second: what were you surprised by? Defied predictions are interesting, because they illuminate the prediction and if other people have it, they will be surprised too. Then you and your listener can all do the work of re-calibrating your predictions, which is figuring things out, which feels good to people. So, note surprises.

Optional third question: how did the logistics work? This is idiosyncratic, perhaps. It won't be interesting to everyone. But I promise you that there is a portion of the population that hosts parties and plans events, and they are fascinated by logistics. So if there weren't enough chairs but you could have fit more people in by re-shaping the aisles, dorks like me notice. We don't get to talk about it often, but when we find someone else who notices, we can talk for hours, finding it interesting the whole time. How did the logistics work? Was everyone comfortable? What were the fire hazards? How were the lines of sight? What would make the speaker more at ease with the mike? Hopefully the content of the evening will be interesting, and if not, the first two questions can improve it. But if none of that is inspiring, there are always logistics to ponder.

I think that is more than enough homework for this poor guy, who was interesting to start with. But he asked.

Rhubarb Pie

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